All That Doesn't Glisten
by Maiskorn
Summary: Tulio's plan did not work out well, but as didn't Tzekel-Kan's. Is El Dorado save now or will the gods's help be needed again? And how will the arrival of the warrior Manax change things? MaleOC/Tzekel-Kan, Tulio/Chel
1. Prolog

**Title:** All That Doesn't Glisten

**Part:** Prolog

**Author:** Maiskorn

**Fandom:** The Road to El Dorado

**Rating:** G

**Word Count:** 645

**Characters:** Tzekel-Kan

**Summary:** Tzekel-Kan failed.

**Copyright:** RtED is completely Dreamwork's and I don't want to make money with this fanfiction.

**Disclaimer:** This has been on my computer for quite some time. It's going to be a longer fanfiction, mostly focusing on Tzekel-Kan and a male OC. Yes, it's a love story, and you know how it goes with slash - don't like, don't read. But they're other aspects to this story, too. It is AU, by the way, though only concerning the last bit of the movie... you will see.

* * *

Tzekel-Kan leaned to one of the head-high feet of the giant stone jaguar and took a deep breath. The same moment, his knees gave in. He slid to the ground and his body slumped down into a sitting position, his head still hurting like it had been crashed into the wall several times and every single muscle in his body protesting against the very task of existing.  
The high priest turned his gaze upwards. This perspective of an insect looking up the leg of the child that was about to squash it – the effect the statue inevitably had – did not exactly help his giddiness. Not that this temporary loss of orientation could distract him from a much more important fact that he had already realized, but that nonetheless confused him to a great extent: The jaguar was, while undoubtly intimidating as always, still lifeless.

Since he had woken up from unconsciousness about ten minutes before, his mind was racing through all the opportunities why his scheme hadn't worked. He had followed the instructions of the codex word by word. He was highly proficient in the mastery of magic, though admittedly this had been by far the largest amount of the divine power he had ever attempted to control. But, most important of all, there was no way his plan wasn't what the gods had in mind about the future of El Dorado. This accumulation of lazy non-believers who let themselves be happily fooled by a scam just because life was easier this way, when it had recently become so obvious that the supposed gods were nothing but conmen (although talented ones, Tzekel-Kan had to admit, as he had been falling for their tricks as well). After all, what god would deny human sacrifice when blood was, as everybody knew, the essence they needed most? A god that had his own blood, that was. And a god like this wasn't one.

His long fingers glided along the blunt edge that was on top of the jaguar's claw almost fondly, and Tzekel-Kan found a certain pacification in the feeling of the cold stone against his fingertips. _No, the gods can't have forsaken me. I've only been trying to fulfill their wishes._  
His hand stopped instantly as he frowned at a second thought. _Or was I too presumptuous when I claimed the command over the jaguar?_  
Glancing up again, he considered the task. A mere human could barely understand the destructive power this statue could develop (tho Tzekel-Kan had, to his delight, very clear and detailed ideas of what _might_ happen).  
_Am I too weak?_ Tzekel-Kan exerted his arm and, once more, felt the dull pain. No, this couldn't be the reason. Magic going wrong was not simply as if missing the target when training with a bow, as he always tried to get through the thick skulls of his novices. Sore muscles and fatigue could have been the result of failing to use a minor healing charm on himself, but if he had messed up with this conjuration, the magic would have turned onto him, broken his bones like sticks and ripped his body literally into pieces.

_Maybe it was just too soon._ The high priest closed his eyes, his weary body pushing him to accept the answer. _How could I possibly understand all the plans of the gods? When they see that the time is fit, they will do as they please, with or without my help._  
Patience was not Tzekel-Kan's strongest side, but after all those years, he figured he could wait a little longer. It would be worth it.  
As he drifted into sleep, slightly curled up between two jaguar claws, loosely hugging himself as protection against the chilliness of the stone, a small smile was upon his lips. The first shadows of dreams weaved him a picture of the end of the world.

* * *

Comments are always appreciated, criticism and praise alike.


	2. Chapter One

**Title:** All That Doesn't Glisten

**Part:** Chapter One

**Author:** Maiskorn

**Fandom:** The Road to El Dorado

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count:** 7.398

**Characters:** Miguel, Tulio, Chel, Tannabok, Ixoc, Tzekel-Kan

**Summary:** After their little adventure of sailing to the New World in a rowboat, Miguel and Tulio should know that water is unpredictable. If they forgot, the river of El Dorado will kindly remind them.

**Copyright:** RtED is completely Dreamwork's and I don't want to make money with this fanfiction.

**Disclaimer:** Thank you for the comment, Brer Rabbit! I agree, we need some Tzekel-Kan love and also to keep this fandom alive (it's way too awesome to just be forgotten :).

On a complete random note, while writing the chapter I noticed Microsoft Spell Check thinks that "Tannabok" is a typo for "cannabis". The more you know.

* * *

"We're gonna have to hit it broadside!"  
"That's your plan?! But the gold!"  
The water crashed against ship's side and splashed onto shipboard, almost swallowing Miguel's and Tulio's voices and dragging off part of the tribute into the depths of the raging river, a sight that Tulio had to turn his gaze away from. It was not exactly difficult finding other things to occupy his mind with, though, since he was a major part in a kind of watery adventure that let sailing over the ocean in a rowboat look like a kid's birthday party.  
"I know!" Oh God, yes, he knew! Why exactly did Miguel have to remind him, why couldn't he leave him these precious last seconds with his treasure? "Just turn the boat!"

Later on, Tulio was sure that they had only been catching a lucky wave. No way in hell or heaven could even the combined power of him, his best friend and Chel have turned the boat around if the troubled waters wouldn't have wanted them to do it, a fact that would be obvious to anyone who spent two seconds thinking about it. However, a pair of gigantic stone pillars coming closer with the speed of a nose-diving eagle corrupted the ability to think logical. While Miguel and Chel proceeded to stab the water with their oars, Tulio pulled at the rudder like a madman.  
The time remaining until the crash was too less and his lifetime had been too full of trouble and excitement to provide him with a complete review, so Tulio missed out on the experience of seeing his whole life flashing by. The last few days, however, replayed in fast-forward, a mix of emotions and glittering of gold… he glanced at Chel's back, not seeing much more than a mass of wildly waving hair, but he still smiled. If he had to kick the bucket now, he at least was in pleasant company.  
In front of her, Tulio also spotted Miguel's red shirt and the messed up blonde strands, contrasting against the gloomy surroundings. Miguel had wanted to stay. Miguel was probably the one of them who cared most about the safety of El Dorado. Miguel, who had originally decided to stay and who now had to give up his new found home.  
If he was indeed going to kick the bucket now, Tulio would have kind of liked to know if he was still allowed to consider himself a friend of this man with whom he had been spending virtually every day of the past six or seven years.  
Reality did not leave time for any more loving or sad last thoughts about the other passengers. Tulio took a deep breath as the boat, now turned, was lifted by another huge wave, speeding towards the pillars.  
"On impact, everybody jump!"

+o+O+o+

Tulio had always believed in caution, in thinking over one's next steps, all in all, in plans. In his eyes, they were essential to avoid ending up in a bigger mess than that you wanted to escape from. Not being completely detached from the real world, however, he also knew plans did not always succeed. If one had bad luck, they failed at the very beginning, fizzled or completely backfired. Also, there where times when a plan in itself worked just fine, but the outcome did not quite meet the expectations because a minor unpredictable detail went awry.

A common estimation in El Dorado was that a friendly god had dug the tunnel-like cave that was the connection between the cascade and the city; judging by the almost perfect waterway it was, this was not unlikely. Still, the first inhabitants of El Dorado made amendments, since the ceiling had some porous and unstable spots that needed to be supported by the pillars the three adventurers had just knocked over. All this was according to plan; together with the loose pieces of the columns, the unstable parts of the tunnel would fall and block the entrance.

Just before the surface of the raving water closed above Tulio, he heard the rumbling of the cracking walls, the sound of stone hitting stone. Then, he was swallowed by the blurry darkness and all that reached his ears was the rushing of the maelstrom that pulled and tossed him around like a leaf.  
_This explains why everybody here thinks of netherworld as a kinda wet place._ Tulio kept his lips pressed shut, as he was sure that, with already running short of air, he didn't need some additional water in his lungs.  
_But the river is flowing in the right direction. It'll get me, us all to the entrance. Just need to keep holding my breath, just-_  
His head hit against stone. There was not even enough time to panic before he fainted.

Chel emerged from the water.  
Unlike her luckless boyfriend, she actually was aware enough of her situation to be scared. Trashing about – with no parents around during her childhood, her definition of swimming was still 'everything that keeps my nose out of the water' and not exactly helpful in the moment –, she fought against the pull, her body roughly hurled against the cave's walls and slivered planks of the sunken ship. Water rushed over her face, making breathing that was more than desperate gasping between two waves impossible.  
Her left hand brushed over the bank of the gently inclining land the pillars had used as baseplate and that were the haven for the ships; in a knee-jerk reaction, she grabbed. The stone was uneven enough to give her fingers somewhat of hold and, seeing her chance, the young woman clawed into it, turning herself around. For a terrible second, her fingers glided, but then, she placed her second hand on the ground and pulled herself out of the river.

Shivering, Chel crouched down and ran a stiff hand over her face. Only now she noticed the extra weight that tugged at her hair. Her state of shock, however, was to severe to actually allow surprise. Almost tired she held the hair in a plait and up in front of her face. Two black beady eyes blinked at her, as the armadillo slowly let go off the strands and dropped down in her lap.  
Chel wiped her face another time and glanced around. The river, that had busted it's banks due to the huge wave, slowly calmed down again, though still far from withdrawing into it's original borders. Problem was, Chel wasn't supposed to see this; she should have been outside with Tulio, Miguel and Altivo. The young woman squinted her eyes to make out more details in the almost nonexistent light of the tunnel. What had once been the entrance to El Dorado was now blocked by a heap of giant stones. The rustling of the waterfall was nothing more than a dull pattering, eerie as if a giant was drumming against the closed gate with it's fingers. She remembered hearing that the river wouldn't dam up – Tannabok had assured a concerned Miguel that they were a lot of subterranean streams, too small for humans, but capable of dealing with the amount of water that now couldn't flow it's original way anymore.  
In conclucison, El Dorado was safe.  
El Dorado was also were she had to return to.  
Chel felt as if one of the pieces of the pillars had dropped on her heart. Being to busy trying not to drown, she could only vaguely reconstruct the last minute, but apparently, something must have blocked her way and prevented her from getting out, thus separating her from the rest.  
The realisation dawned on her pretty quickly and her hands closed tightly around the armadillo as she tried to choke down the tears. This was the end of her adventure. Game over, try again. Back to her old life without Tulio. Back to her old life, just with the pleasant addition that their was no chance to escape to _anywhere_, never.

"Chel?!"  
Miguel's voice echoed through the cave.  
Chel almost dropped the Armadillo into the water; only it reflexes, that made it cling to her wrist, saved it.  
"Miguel!" She scrambled to her feet, shaking off the small animal so it landed on the ground. "Where are you?!" Before he could answer, she saw the tiny figure of Miguel pressed against the blocked entrance by the pull, struggling in a fight to keep Altivo's head above the water. The horse, standing on a slippery stone beneath the surface with only two hooves, neighed nervously, ears bend backwards and, frightened as it was, tried to escape the grip of it's friend, despite that there was absolutely nowhere to run to.  
"I saw Tulio disappearing here!" It was hard to make out Miguel's exact expression in the darkness, but his voice sounded frightened enough.  
Chel didn't wait for the obvious question if she could somehow help with Altivo; she already had some sort of plan in her head.  
_Never mind that it is just as brilliant as crossing the ocean in a rowboat_, she thought, remembering what Tulio had told her about their original plan. But it were those things you came up with when you had no time and no choice.  
She ran along the edge of the small shore. Rope piled up at the end pointing towards the tunnel to El Dorado, still clinging to the rest of the ripped sail. For a second, she tried to get the rest of the fabric off, but as it didn't seem to work she took the thing as it was, hastily wrapping the remains of the sail around it to keep them from getting in the way.

"Put the rope around Altivo's neck!"  
She threw one end of the rope at Miguel, who caught it and did as he was told without protest, despite that this was probably not going to work. He liked Altivo, but if he had to choose, it would always be Tulio – he had even given up his dream of living in El Dorado for this man.  
"Done! Take care of him!"  
Miguel let go off the horse, gave him a last pat on the neck and dived.

From the stones of the closed entrance to Chel's isle, it were only about six metres and the ground of the sea was usually only few inches beneath the surface, so that people could walk there without getting their knees wet. However, the huge wave had boosted the water level so that Altivo's ears might be the only thing poking out if he stepped away from the stones he was standing on.  
_He can do it, he could just run to me. The way is too short for him to drown. But how can I explain that to some animal?_ Chel frowned upon her own thoughts. Some animal? Altivo was way more than that, wasn't he? _It's worth the try. It's my only chance._  
"Altivo!" She gave the rope a gentle tug. The animal, obviously still searching for somewhere to escape to, looked up, into her direction.  
"Altivo, you need to come here!"  
Chel tried to lure the horse with reaching into his direction and ban the from her mind that Miguel and Tulio had yet to appear again. _They're fine. They have to be fine._  
"Come here, Altivo! You'll be fine!"  
_Or Miguel won't find him because Tulio is outside._ Although it made her heart ache to think about never seeing her boyfriend again, it was probably the best for Tulio, who had so desperately wanted to go. And definitely better than 'being drowned' or the equally appealing 'forming base level of what now blocks the entrance'. No. It was better for the two young lovers to be separated then.  
Again, she forced herself to concentrate. She couldn't do anything about this right now.  
"Altivo, I promise! Come here, the river is not that deep!"  
The horse neighed again, suspiciously.  
"Come on! You can't stay there forever!"  
_My boyfriend is drowning, I'm trapped in damn-it-to-Xibalba El Dorado and I'm talking to a horse._ She looked down at her leg. _While an Armadillo is wrapped around my ankle._  
For a moment, Chel was just as close to bursting into tears as she was to laughing out loud, feeling like the lead actress ins ome sort of bizarre comedic play. _When I said I wanted adventures, this was not what I had in mind._  
For someone like Chel, who always had have to do without what a lot others took for granted, - from the simple compassion and help of people around her to material things to call her own -, the advise 'be careful with your wishes, they might get granted' was often quite difficult to understand. Concerning that, she was just learning a lesson.

Her thoughts were cut short by Altivo, who overcame himself and jumped straight into the water. Chel yelped, the sudden movement almost dragging her back into the river. Tightly clinging to the rope, she found the only way to prevent a dive was throwing herself back with her whole weight, falling on her behind.  
As she opened her eyes, Altivo was climbing up the shore, spitting water, his mane hanging over his eyes. He shook his head and sighed deeply, almost like a human would have done.  
"Good boy, Altivo." Chel patted his stomach, the only thing she could reach from her position on the ground.  
A splashing noise made her head practically jerk up. Miguel had reappeared, gasping. With one arm, he strained to keep the upper body of Tulio above the surface.  
The young woman crawled through Altivo's legs and slipped down of the stone landing stage, too shocked by the sight to even scream her friend's name. The water had begun to retreat, allowing her to walk a few steps, and she met with the exhausted Miguel as the water had just reached her hips. Together, they pulled Tulio out of the river.

The young Spaniard was neither moving nor breathing anymore, his black hair sticking to his wet face, highlighting the paleness of his skin. There was nothing that could have led his two friends, crouching down next to him, one on the left and one on the right side, to the conclusion that there was still spark of life inside this body, if it hadn't been for the faint beating of his heart that Chel felt beneath her fingers.  
Their foreheads crashed together over his face as both wanted to start rescue breathing. Looking up, they stared at each other.  
"I- sorry."  
"No, my fault-"  
There would have been an awkward silence if they hadn't been in a hurry to save Tulio's life.  
"You do this," Chel said.  
To her surprise, Miguel just smiled, almost apologizing. "No. I mean, I bet he wants to see his girlfriend when he wakes up, right?" He urged her with a movement of his hand.  
Chel smiled weakly, but she meant it. Leaning over Tulio, she held his nose and pressed her lips on his.

Miguel had been in a lot of dangerous situations, but then, he was a rather optimistic person. No matter if he had been chased by soldiers or dangerous animals, trying to escape from cells in various dungeons or angry sailors in taverns, not even as he had been so close to dying on the sea, he had ever felt completely lost; he had never been lonely. But this very moment, staring at Chel's slender back as she was cowering over Tulio and unable to do anything made him feel more frightened than he ever had.  
_He can't be dead. It's just… impossible._  
Altivo's nose nudged Miguel's shoulder, probably to soothe him, but Miguel sat like a stone stature. Chel breathed for Tulio, but there was nothing, not a twitch of his body.  
_For how long is this going anyway?_ Seconds, minutes, hours? Miguel felt like the scene was on fast forward and it took all his self-control to not scream at Chel. It was not her fault; he would not do a better job at this. _Or maybe I would. Oh no, no, no, I wouldn't. There's nothing she can do to speed this up._  
Thousands of excruciating moments later – as what it felt to Miguel –, a small sound escaped Tulio's throat, then he coughed. This time, the only thing that kept Chel's and Miguel's heads from colliding was Altivo's muzzle between them.

Slowly, Tulio opened his eyes. There was grey fog, the sound of water; he wondered if he and Miguel had been thrown out of a quayside tavern, after a lot of alcohol and a free-for-all. And he bet Miguel had been flirting with the innkeeper's wife again…  
But as the first thing he stared into as the clouds in front of his eyes faded was a horse looking at him with concern, he rethought his story. No… they weren't in Spain, although this horse was Spanish. Now it licked his face, from the chin up to his forehead.  
"Altivo!" was the first word he spat out, before he started coughing. Instantly, someone was pulling him up and about three or four hands patted his back.  
"Tulio, are you alright?"  
A woman's voice. It came back to him; that was Chel... Chel, Miguel, the gold – he flinched –, the boat… "I guess so. Are you?"  
He looked at the two, who nodded in unison, and let a held breath escape.  
"Good, that's good thing to start this with, at least. Now, have we done it?"  
"Also yes. And… no," Miguel answered carefully.  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  
Miguel gestured towards what was behind Tulio's back. "We closed the entrance, but, well, we're kind of… inside."  
Tulio's jaw dropped and he instantly turned around, staring at the newly-build stone wall, then back to Miguel and Chel.  
"Inside? Like – inside with no way to get out? Never again?"  
"The entrance-closing part of your plan worked perfectly," Miguel said, his sentence interrupted halfway by a groan of Tulio.  
"Why is there always a chink in my plans lately?" He got to his feet and ran a hand though his black hair. "Goddamnit!"  
"You gotta see the bright sides." Miguel tried, failing to seem cheerful as he wanted to. "The stones have neither crushed nor separated us and – hey, we're all not missing any limbs."  
"Oh, sure, Miguel," Tulio said bitterly. "This turned out just right for you!"  
"Tulio." Chel put a hand on his arm. For a moment, Miguel thought Tulio was going to shake her off and attack him, but then his friend took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  
"Okay, okay. Sorry, I know it's not your fault, Miguel."  
"No problem." Miguel gave Tulio a pat on the shoulder. After all, he couldn't deny that this unexpected turn of events was not exactly the end of the world to him.  
"Does this mean peace?" Chel looked at the men. She was not exactly thrilled about what had happened either, but then, why make it worse with pointless fighting? It would not get them out of here.  
"I… guess so?" Miguel raised a brow at Tulio, who nodded his head.  
"I guess so, too."

The noonday sun shown down on El Dorado and although it made the air over the richly coloured houses and the hundreds and hundreds of steps that lead to the high tops of the temples shimmer with heat, almost all inhabitants of the gods's favourite city had gathered around the river. By now, they slowly closed the respectful distance they had kept to the banks when the water had seemed like a furious wet monster only minutes before. Now they watched the huge fishes, who seemed to be the only thing about the river that was still agitated. With unusual speed the glided through the water in cicles and every once in a while, one of them emerged from the surface, the scales on their backs glistening in every color of the rainbow when the rays of sun reached them.

Chief Tannabok looked up as the silent hum of many voices got temporary louder and the crowd moved, leaving a passage for a lanky soldier. The man approached him with a smile and took a bow once he had reached him.  
"The stones off the crashed pillar have spread all over the river's ground. I think it's safe to say they won't block of one of our normal boats."  
"Very good. Then take two men with you." Tanni thought about it a moment. "One of them a fisherman, if possible," he added, and at the questioning look of the solider continued: "Someone who knows the river well. We don't know what the tunnel looks like inside at the moment. If they're heaps of stone right beneath the surface or new banks of sand… things like that. If it's not too dangerous for you, find out if Lord Tulio's plan worked out."  
"Yes, chief Tanni."

The man went to do what he had been told. Gradually, the people's attention turned to a longish boat with enough space for about five or six people. In order to save them from damage, all boats had been taken out of the river before the gods had carried out their plan, so this was probably the first one the soldier, who entered it along with two thickset men, had found.  
Tanni watched them cast off as he felt a small hand on his shoulder. A look on the fingers, the thumb with a thin, only one inch long scar right at the tip that no one would notice who hadn't loved to look at this hands for almost fifteen years now, told him who it was.  
"Ah, Ixoc, I wondered if I had lost you between all those people here," he said, as his wife stepped next to him. The woman was smaller than him and, despite that she was full-figured herself, looked almost fragile next to the corpulent chief. Her almond-shaped eyes looked Tanni up and down before she spoke. "Well, I'm here now."After a second, she added; "And I'm sure our 'Gods' were able to save the city."  
Tanni, wondering not for the first time if she could read his thoughts, put a hand on her back and nodded his head.  
"Tulio is an intelligent man. I trust in his plans," he said, while leading her to the stairs that would get them up to a platform, allowing a better view on the river. Ixoc didn't answer, sensing that Tanni was not done speaking yet. Together, they watched the small boat searching it's way through the hurdles that were the remains of the column.  
"The plan was good. Still… it's dangerous for them. Even if they have survived, how are they going to escape from whatever they have spared El Dorado?"  
"The odds are that we will never know. But from what I have heard and seen, Tulio and Miguel seem to know these dangers. And Chel is a cunning girl as well, she will help them."  
"That's right." Tanni tried to shake the dark thoughts off, only to find himself with different, equally unpleasant ones. "Have you seen the family of the guard who was captured by that man Miguel called Cortez?"  
"Tzunun spoke to his parents." Tzunun was the Captain of the Eagle Warriors, a special group of only the best soldiers who got all their orders directly from Tannabok. "They understood your decision, he said." And, seeing the look on her husband's face, she hugged his arm. "It was the only sensible thing to do."  
The guard who had been captured had only been sixteen years old. He had walked a little further into the forest, as the others guards who had worked on shift with him had told Tannabok when they alarmed him, to take a look at the surroundings of the entrance, and must have somehow gotten into the hands of Cortez and his men. As the situation had looked to the other soldiers, he had probably been threatened to be killed if he didn't show them the way and the young soldier had succumbed to his fear and agreed. Tannabok didn't blame him for it. A young guy like this, barely a man, was not someone he expected to die for his city without a second thought; not everyone could be a hero.  
Unfortunately, despite all understanding, it was death that Tanni could not spare him, leaving him to his faith by saving the rest of his people.  
"Sometimes I think that being the chief of such a peaceful place has actually made me soft. I won't ever get used to decisions like these."  
"And is that really such a bad thing, Tanni?"  
Tanni remained silent for a moment, then, as her determined gaze locked with his more gentle one, smiled.  
"No, probably not."  
Ixoc was Tanni's only wife. Most chiefs had two or three – even normal men sometimes had more than one. Tanni had never seen the appeal of that. Besides the thought that it was very unfair, because he would not want to share his wife and so his wife should not have to share him, he couldn't see what any other women could possibly add to Ixoc.

While the two of them had the talked, the boat had been swallowed by the dark mouth of the tunnel. Usually it didn't look dangerous to Tanni, but now it remembered him of the caiman on whose back the whole world was built; it's snout must look similar, if you stared right into it.  
Mythology always brought him to another, topic, too.  
"Speaking of dangers to the city, do you know where our high priest is? I didn't expect him to miss the departure of his gods."  
"Maybe he's still in the temple sulking? Miguel was sure harsh with him at the ballgame – and if you ask me, it was about time someone he respects set him straight!" Ixoc folded her arms.  
"A pity he does not actually respect any of us mere human beings. But no," Tanni said slowly and shook his head, "that's not like Tzekel-Kan. I'm think he might rather be up to something."  
"Isn't he always?" Ixoc frowned. "I just hope he has enough common sense left to know that now, after the gods have told him off, he will have to contain himself for a while."  
"Would you count on it?"  
Tanni put his arm around the shoulders of his wife and chuckled as she snorted angrily.  
"If your were chief instead of me, Tzekel-Kan's life would be a lot harder," he said and kissed his wife's hair, almost pushing down her round crown in the process. She raised a brow at him.  
"Well, you let him get away with too many things."  
"Possibly," Tanni granted and smiled as he put her crown back on it's place. It was just that he did not really take Tzekel-Kan serious. He was an obstacle in many situations, he was sometimes frightening and he was as sure as the leaves on the trees were green a complete and utter nutjob. But dangerous? Rarely. Only the presence of the gods had made him a real threat, usually he was aware of the fact that the people of El Dorado would only let him go so far.  
"I haven't seen Lamoc either," he said, pushing this old discussion into a different direction.  
"If he isn't with the crowd, he's with Tzekel-Kan."  
After all, this was where the slightly dense Captain of the Jaguar warriors – the other of the two outstanding groups of El Dorado's soldiers, this one under the direct control of Tzekel-Kan – spent most of his time. If the high priest whistled, Lamoc would not waste a second to appear on his side like a trained dog. Tannabok technically was allowed to give orders to the jaguar warriors, but he was to afraid that contradictory commands from him and Tzekel-Kan would confuse poor Lamoc too much, aside from the fact that in the end, it would be the high priest he'd listen to anyway.  
"True. It's not a surprise that Lamoc never had a wife or child– Ixoc?"  
But his wife didn't listen. With her mouth half-opened, she stared at the river where the boat had just emerged from the dark cave, bringing back more passengers than it had cast off with.

Before Tannabok and his wife even had a chance to come close the bank, the people of El Dorado were already swarming their gods. Above the general chaos that ensued, the lanky soldier climbed out of the boat, waving his arms to gain the chief's attention.  
"The entrance is closed! We're save!" He shouted, though, with everybody talking and cheering his screams had no chance of reaching Tannabok's ears. But that didn't matter. The message itself spread like a wildfire and by the time Tanni managed to spot Miguel, Tulio and Chel as well as Altivo, who were all dripping and showing uncertain grins and did their best to not let the excited crowd accidentally push them back into the river, he was pretty much up to date and practically beaming with joy.  
"The gods have decided to stay?" He asked quietly, finally facing Tulio and Miguel.  
"They actually were decided to stay. Or something. Anyhow, in the end it means they will… stay," Tulio answered, trailing off. But he pulled himself together quickly and just took a deep breath as Tannabok gave him a knowing smile.  
"If that's the decision the gods made," Tannabok said and the way he looked up to the clear blue sky Miguel wondered which gods he was talking of, "El Dorado will welcome them happily."  
His voice, as warm as it was, easily drowned out that of at least the few dozen of people closest to them, and his words where answered with loud cheers.  
Tulio watched the laughing faces, dark hair and eyes glistening in the sun and listened to the distant sound of a lively chant until he felt a hand tugging at his collar.  
"C'mon!" Miguel said, grinning.  
He and Chel had already mounted Altivo. Tulio let himself be pulled up by their hands. It was definitely tough to be a god, true. But, and as people threw their colorful capes at them to use them as towels and the chanting got louder, revealing itself as some kind of alleluia, he also had to admit that there were more horrible fates.

+o+O+o+

"The chief went to prepare a celebration for this evening." Chel looked at Tulio, who leaned to a wall motionlessly and stared out of one of the open fronts of the temple; their new home. Absent-mindedly, he played with a small gold figurine that must have been overlooked as the tribute was carried to the boat.

"Does anyone know the special moment he noticed we aren't gods?" Tulio asked, turning around to his friends.  
"When Miguel refused to arrange a massacre after the ball game?"  
Tulio scratched his head, but his before he could answer, Miguel chimed in.  
"Stop worrying, Tulio. We're heroes now! We saved the city!" He stretched his arms out. "Even if they find out we're human, no one will care, because we've saved this place and we're much more likeable than their mass murderer divinities anyway."  
"Yeah, but what about our high priestly friend?"  
"Until now he hasn't showed up, so what? We'll worry about this when we have to."  
"It will be too late then! This attitude is exactly-"  
Chel mentally tuned the bickering friends and bit her lower lip, as it was her habit when she was thinking things over. Where exactly was her place here, anyway? Still with the boys? Being some kind of counsellor for the gods was not exactly the kind of change she had thought of, but then, considering her life as a woman without a family to rely on and from the very bottom of what the social class system of El Dorado had to offer, it didn't sound exactly bad.  
And then there was Tulio. Now, Chel had learned the hard way to be very careful to think of love too soon and that a promise to take her to whateverland made between two kisses did not mean they would stay together for more than a week, but Tulio, she actually believed there could be that something special.  
"Hey, you guys."  
Chel took the gold figurine from Tulio's hand – the best way to get his attention. She better found out if the boys decided to show her the door anytime soon. "Considering that we have to rearrange our plans, how is our deal working out?" She looked at the small tribute, demonstratively indifferent. "Am I still in?"  
"Still in?" Miguel rubbed the back of his neck. „I guess she's kind of a part of it by now, Tulio?"  
"'course. Unless – you want to go?" Tulio's voice sounded worried and Chel couldn't help but feel a little satisfied.  
"Oh no, really. It sounds interesting and plus, I like the temple. And the things in it." She flung her long hair back and smiled at Tulio, but as he reached out to hug her, she pulled Miguel into the embrace with one arm.

Altivo, who stood in the back of the temple, only looked up for a second, then proceeded to chew on the fruits that had hastily been prepared for him and rolled his eyes. If there was any being that managed to get more sappy than humans, he was quite happy that he had never met it.

+o+O+o+

It was the distant sound of music that woke Tzekel-Kan up later that day, when the sun god had long finished his way over the sky and transformed into a jaguar to go on the dangerous journey through Xibalba before being reborn the next morning.  
There was a brief moment when the high priest just sat and listened, still too sleepy to think any further. There was the rhythm of the drums, the hollow mirlitons with their unique sound close to that of dripping water and, much louder, big tortoise shells beaten with wooden sticks and small drums made of clay and covered with deer hide, their pace fast and sprightly. Then the sharp twittering noises of the flutes and whistles, some playing melodies all on their own, some only producing one tone, and so many different types at once, one high-pitched, one like the storm in an empty cave, one like a singing macaw and all combined like a whole choir of birds.  
Before he managed to filter out more different instruments – most of them known to him so well because he always heard and occasionally even played them at ceremonies –, he started to wonder why they were playing at all. He used the jaguar's claw to hold on to as he pulled his aching body up and dragged himself over to the door. Automatically straightening his back as he spotted the jaguar warrior guarding the always open door frame, he stepped out.

As he stood in the balmy breeze it carried over the softer sound of voices, people chattering and laughing, accompanying the music. At the foot of the temple, Tzekel-Kan could also see them in the light of torches as he gazed over the end of the platform, a colorful, chaotic accumulation of dancing citizens.  
A feast? It was not that the people of El Dorado ever needed a reason to hold festivals, Tzekel-Kan knew this all too well. But concerning the special events of today… he turned to the soldier.  
"What exactly do they celebrate on a day that began with the gods leaving us?"  
He made his best effort to keep the usual aversion to the people of El Dorado in his voice, seeming as if he was displeased that they celebrated a moment that should leave them cheerless. Really, though, if it hadn't been so suspicious for someone like him to attend to a festival, he would have considered to go and get himself a cup of pulque; without this false gods in his way, he could claim full control over anything concerning religion again.  
To his surprise, the soldier looked quiet confused.  
"But Sir, the gods… they did not leave."  
Tzekel-Kan stared at him for a moment. Aghast did not even get close to describing the expression on his face right now.  
"They did not leave?"  
"No. But we thought you already spoke to the gods in a ceremony and knew about their plans because you didn't join us at their departure." He frowned. "What have you been doing all the time, if you hav-"  
He stopped. The glare Tzekel-Kan directed at him could have pierced through a solid wall. The soldier was at least one head taller than his superior, but seemed to shrink under the gaze until Tzekel-Kan looked down on _him_.  
He felt the hair in the back of his neck raise. It was a bad idea to forget things like that questioning the high priest when you were nothing but a ordinary soldier was the El Dorado equivalent of asking to get your still beating heart ripped out during a ceremony.  
"I'm… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I mean, I know you've probably been…"  
"Be very sure I have found a more productive way to spend the day than watching things that I was not meant to influence," Tzekel-Kan hissed with a bit too much of real anger for someone who's back still hurt from something as incredibly productive as a long nap on the ground.  
"Y-yes… of course, Sir."  
Tzekel-Kan shot him another look. "Then tell me, why did our lords saw it fit to stay with us?"

While the soldier talked, Tzekel-Kan's mind went astray whenever the man lost himself in praise for those damn impostors. Whatever they had kept out of the city… could it have been the real gods, finally, come to destroy their false counterparts and the lazy, ungrateful citizens who loved to be fooled so their little meaningless lives would not be disturbed?  
But Tzekel-Kan didn't get his hopes up; if Tulio and Miguel had been able to give advice on how to battle against them (for example, what the soldier told him, knew that the soldiers of El Dorado would not manage to win a fight), it were probably only mortal men like them, with those unusual light skins, the strangely different faces and with hair yellow like burned grass, but with nothing godly about them. After the last big letdown, Tzekel-Kan was careful; not that he saw himself in a position to test the gods, but he wasn't dumb either. A real god was not stopped by a stone wall and if it was them, they would come and once they got to the city he was very sure he could prove he was nothing like those filthy non-believers.

"You forgot to tell me about that the wave they used was created with one of our entrance pillars," Tzekel-Kan mentioned as the soldier had finished.  
"How do you…"  
"Since I'm the speaker for the gods, my contact with them is more intense than that it would require constant physical presence." Tzekel-Kan sneered. „I was interested, though, on how the wonder they worked might have come across to a simple mind as yours."  
So simple, actually, that the soldier had apparently forgotten that Tzekel-Kan could see the gargantuan column missing when he peered over his subordinate's shoulder.  
"As I expected, you seem to think that they stayed because they want to build up friendships with the ones like you and Chief Tannabok or something equally ridiculous. But," he raised brow as he turned to face the entrance of the temple, "you will learn your lesson."  
Looking from the corner of his eye, Tzekel-Kan checked if his attempt to save face was working. From what he could make out, the soldier was either convinced Tzekel-Kan had been testing him or he hid his doubts very well behind that scared face. However it might be, the high priest was sure that more words on this topic would make the already flimsy excuses for his behaviour ring hollow. Also, talking about featherbrained members of the military had brought something else to his mind.  
"You may go now. You have the evening off, I don't need you here."  
The soldier was obviously pleasantly surprised and escaped with a 'thank you, Sir' before the high priest had time to reconsider the idea.  
Not that he was about to do that. There was nothing he needed less than witnesses right now.

Tzekel-Kan crouched down next to the hollow in the temple's ground. Not one drop of the elixir had remained, but on the bottom there was a bunch of bleached bones, scattered all around and some broken into pieces. Tzekel-Kan picked up the skull without any hesitation, looked at it for a second and felt a tad of remorse. He really should have sacrificed someone else. This guy, blessed with an overactive sense of duty and too less brains to question orders, had been quite useful.  
_Then again_, Tzekel-Kan thought as he dropped the head and went to get his cloak, _it is about time a man who can appreciate what an honourable position it is gets to be the Captain of the Jaguar Warriors._

This decision should be delayed, though. He had to appear as if he was just as surprised about Lamoc missing as everyone else the next few days. But since the man had been little more than his mouthpiece and Tzekel-Kan was used to come to any important decisions concerning his warriors on his own, he didn't see any problem with that.  
After having spread the cloak on the ground, Tzekel-Kan collected the bones on it. He tied up the cloak at it's four corners and shouldered the bundle.

Avoiding to come even close to the revellers – not a hard task, since most of El Dorado was build on many different levels of stone terraces and he just kept using the unoccupied ones –, he made his way down an overgrown trail that led him to the bank of a river. Usually the women of El Dorado came here to launder their family's clothes, because of the big moss-covered stones at the edge of the river where they would sit and chatter while washing.  
Tzekel-Kan dropped the burden on one of those natural chairs, looked around and picked up a rock of the size of the rubber balls they used in their games. Now that he got rid of that bit of collateral damage, he would make sure no one would ever find it in a state that would enable him or her to draw any conclusions.  
As he smashed the stone on the bundle repeatedly, somewhere above him in the trees, macaws squawked and leaves rustled as they fled, alarmed by the unpleasant cracking noises. Tzekel-Kan paused for a moment, listening attentively, but no footsteps indicated that a human being, too, was around and aware of the din, so he continued.  
Judging what was left of the faithful Captain's remains in the end, Tzekel-Kan worked with the premise that everything worth doing was worth doing well. True, he could have just dumped the bones into the cenote, the entrance to Xibalba, but he wouldn't disgrace the gods with giving the residual of some stupid accident to them.  
As he put the grindstone to the ground, he thought about the Hero Twins Xbalanque and Hunahpu – the protagonists of the most important legendary tale everyone, from priest to farmer, knew –, and how they had tricked the inhabitants of Xibalba so that they also grinded their bones after they had killed them. Little did the people of Xibalba know that Xbalanque and Hunahpu were able to restore themselves as fishes because of that. The analogy ended here, though. Lamoc lacked not only the Hero Twins's intelligence, but also their power and nothing would make him reappear on earth's surface ever again.

As Tzekel-Kan took the bundle and opened it over the river, only bonemeal and splinters rained down on the surface and within seconds, the clear water had washed away the last evidence of Lamoc's existence.

* * *

Comments are, of course, appreciated, criticism and praise alike.


	3. Chapter Two

**Title:** All That Doesn't Glisten

**Part:** Chapter Two

**Author:** Maiskorn

**Fandom:** The Road to El Dorado

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count:** 7.603

**Characters:** Miguel, Tulio, Chel, Tannabok, Ixoc, Tzekel-Kan, Manax

**Summary:** A new arrival promises to shake up things in El Dorado.

**Copyright:** RtED is completely Dreamwork's and I don't want to make money with this fanfiction.

**Disclaimer:** For some reason it took me ridiculously long to finish this chapter, but it's here now. Thanks to Brer Rabbit for the comment, btw, you're right, this movie is far too good to not have a living fandom!

* * *

"I thought I made myself clear when I stated – various times – that only priests are allowed to enter the temple?"

It was not like Tzekel-Kan didn't know who had dared to put feet on the sacred ground – you should know your friends well and your enemies better. And he was sure this sedate trudging could only belong to one man, so he didn't even grace the new arrival with a look, allowing himself to be rude under the cover that he didn't know who had entered.

Tannabok was not new to this game, he had been playing for more than a decade. He waited until the priest, who took ridiculously long to finish preparing a censer's contents, turned around slowly.

"Oh, it's _you_."

"Yes." Tannabok stepped forward. "And you ought to pay a little attention to that when you shoo me out of the temple. After all, I'm a descendent of those who guard this building."

Divine kingship was something many of Tanni's royal colleagues claimed. He, on the other hand, didn't even let his people call him king and had no intention whatsoever to force himself into the family tree of any god. But he couldn't deny that it was a good thing to see Tzekel-Kan grimacing like he had swallowed a bug the size of his thumb whenever Tannabok remembered him of that not unimportant detail coming with lordship in a Mayan city.

"Of course, how I could I possibly have forgotten that?" Tzekel-Kan sneered as he wiped his hands, covered with incense powder, on a cloth. "What brings you here, Tannabok?"

Tannabok walked further into the temple. There was an unusual smell, a bit like cooked meat, but with the ever-present odor of resin incense, it was hard to tell "Tzunun told me that they missed Lamoc at the morning roll call. No one saw him during the feasts either, not the one to bid the gods goodbye and not the one to welcome them again."

"The gods, yes…" The high priest rose brow. "Is that so? It seems even the ones I deemed somehow capable are now slacking off. I will have to tell someone to search for him."

"The soldiers already did that. I hoped you could tell us more, since you haven't been present at the feasts either."

Tannabok watched the high priest closely. Tzekel-Kan had always been terrible at hiding his most recent emotions (while he was a good liar and storyteller in general once he had gotten used to a certain idea).

This time, though, Tannabok didn't even see him trying. As Tzekel-Kan's gaze wandered from the stela of the two gods back to the chief, he was grinning in a way that made shivers of fear run down Tannabok's back.

"I am just as surprised as you are about his disappearance – and displeased, at that. But I am not his nanny. He hasn't been around here for a while either, I can't help you" He said, but what Tannabok read in his face was what the high priest really wanted him to understand.

_I know exactly what happened to him and I know you know that I did something. Something that includes that he's probably not going to return._

_And now try to prove it, Tannabok, because you also know I made sure you can't._

Tannabok bit his own tongue; it took a lot to make him furious, but Tzekel-Kan had it down to an art. "I will just leave it to Tzunun, then, to find him," he answered, trying to suppress the anger.

"He's certainly the most competent from the Eagle warriors for that task." Which translated to that Tzekel-Kan, who was just a tad bit biased against the chief's men, was sure Tzunun was the only one of the troop who's head you couldn't replace with an empty basket without anyone noticing.

*

"Did he know anything?"

Ixoc somehow managed to make room for yet another kid under the age of four, the three youngest of her children now happily collected in her arms. Tannabok, who sat in his throne, watched the shadows that the leaves in front of the window cast on the ground, frowning.

"Nothing that he wants to tell me. To be true, I don't think there's much hope for Lamoc." Tannabok sighed and shook his head, straightening himself up. "This priest is impossible."

"So you think Tzekel-Kan... killed him?" Ixoc almost dropped the two-year-old twins.

"I can't say for sure. More importantly, I have no evidence. I will ask Tzunun to especially consider it, but if Tzekel-Kan doesn't want us to know, it's likely we won't find out."

"Just don't let Tzekel-Kan know about the special investigations." Ixoc cleared her throat and tried for a manly, sly voice as she spoke up again. "'Well, as we all know, Chief Tannabok and his men have a certain dislike for researching and thinking things over, as this would imply hard work. It doesn't surprise me in the least that they prefer jumping to conclusions…'"

She stopped as she heard Tannabok chuckle, having reached her goal. Shifting the children's weight on her arm, she sat down on the armrest of the throne. Tannabok put his one hand on her thigh and took one of the kids with the other, cradling it in his arms.

"And does he know the gods are not gods?"

"He didn't say so, but I'm quite sure by now. Tzekel-Kan is not stupid. But it's not going to help him. He invited the gods into the city and now everyone loves them." Tannabok couldn't help but smirk as he said these words (or whatever came close to a smirk in the range of gentle expressions Tannabok could choose from). "He has no backup and would only make a fool of himself if he acted up now."

"Thank the gods," Ixoc said cheerfully.

Tannabok nodded his head. "And I have another idea… it's probably too late to save Lamoc," he said after a second of rethinking his inspiration and smiled, "but I know a way to upset whatever plans Tzekel-Kan has now."

*

A few surprisingly uneventful days had passed since the gods had decided to stay. It seemed like the city needed to calm down and find its original easy-going pace which had been disturbed by the two Spanish tricksters. It was this what Tzekel-Kan, among other things, hated about El Dorado. The longer he lived among the people here, the less he understood how those lazy nonbelievers had actually manage to build things like the temple from which steps he sometimes watched the God's supposed favourite city.

That the temple was the first thing that came to Tzekel-Kan's mind, when he compared the contrariness of the general carefree attitude with what the people of El Dorado had achieved, was of course because he spent most of his time there. But even with all of his spite combined, Tzekel-Kan couldn't deny that the temple was extraordinary. Twelve years ago, when Tzekel-Kan's predecessor had gone to meet his makers, the people of El Dorado had used the chance to demolish the old temple. Once the high priest's body was sealed in a vault inside the old structure, they had, within the short time of two years, built a new temple on top. Using an old holy building as the base for a new one was quite common in the region, for places also collected divine energy and the wall between the real world and the spirit world got thinner and thinner with every ritual performed at a certain place. It would have been madness to let all this spiritual energy go to waste and place the temple somewhere else.

It had been the time when Tannabok and Tzekel-Kan didn't know - and hate - each other much. The chief had given Tzekel-Kan plenty of rope concerning the decoration of the temple, which had been left unfinished for the new high priest to have the final say, and Tzekel-Kan had decided for the rather morbid look with skulls displayed all over the wall. But it were local architects who had come up with the overall construction plan whereas Tzekel-Kan had only gotten to add the icing on the cake. The high priest was pleased with it, though. He especially had fallen in love with the circular observatory on top of the temple, a kind of building which he had only heard of as a part of a temple in Chichén Itzà and in which's existence he could never quite believe, since all of the rooms he had ever seen had the obligatory rectangular floor space.

Its form made it the perfect place to record the movements of the stars from and thus know what the gods had in store for everyone, which was what Tzekel-Kan planned to do right now. He ascended the spiral staircase, another feature he had never seen before he had been allowed to enter this temple, and reached the upper platform. The observatory was also the only room with windows that he had ever been in.

Tzekel-Kan pulled the red cape, the same in which he had carried Lamoc's bones, a little tighter around his body. Windows were of course necessary to see the stars, but when he got here in the evening, he always remembered why other houses didn't have them. Why would anyone invite draught like this into their living space? Any priest or priestess who was stupid enough not to protect him- or herself from the wind while he or she was spending the night in the observatory was sure to catch a chill.

The high priest leaned out of one of the windows. The sky was clear and dark, the stars shining with an icy white light, each and every one of them already recorded and there peregrination the topic of many codices. Watching the heavens, holy men and women had been able to construe three different calendars to record the passing time as well as predict the future.

Tzekel-Kan was ripped from his peaceful thoughts of estimating where the stars stood on their path – seeing as the last days he had forgotten to keep track of such things, with the false gods certainly being a distraction from day-to-day tasks – as he saw thunderclouds in the distance. This was unusual; in the summer, the rain fell in the afternoon or the evening, which had happened this day, so the sky should have been clear by now.

The clouds agglomerated over the forest, dark as night itself, only illuminated by sudden flashes of lightning. Tzekel-Kan gazed at them for a moment and his eyes widened.

The bolts were green, the color of magic.

So it seemed like he had been able to set free a considerable amount of magic, after all. But instead of working for him, it was on the loose. Then again, who knew if the gods weren't going to finish Tzekel-Kan's plan?

For a few minutes, the priest got his hopes up again, watching the sky with his breath held. But the wind destroyed the pretty dreams of destruction and divine mass murder; it drove the clouds towards the city, but they also scattered, slowly turned into the normal grey of clouds heavy with rain. The sudden green flashes vanished.

Tzekel-Kan mentally ticked off this try to get back on El Dorado, there would be other chances for sure. In the end, it was probably better the magic had dissolved. Power like this 'running wild' - if that was even possible - would not benefit anyone, probably just cause unnecessary trouble in the milpas, the fields of the peasants in the outskirts of El Dorado. As the disappointingly normal rain pattered against the temple's walls, Tzekel-Kan dutifully pressed his palms together, thanking the storm god Chac for the rain on behalf of the peasants.

And later on, Tzekel-Kan would ask Chac for a thunderstorm which washed away a lot more than just dirt from the streets.

*

„Great. Now, is this the temple or what?"

Manax wasn't speaking to anyone in particular. That would have been quite difficult, too, seeing as absolutely no one was outside of their houses – besides him. And this wasn't a real surprise either, concerning that the downpour was so heavy that buildings, sky and ground seemed to melt into one glaucous substance, making the first impression of El Dorado after a journey of two days rather disappointing for Manax.

He turned the map around and held it upside down, wondering if a change of the point of view would help somehow - the glyphs, scribbled down next to the small pictures that illustrated the most important places of the city, didn't. But even if he would have learned to read sometime during his twenty-eight year old life, the fig-bark paper was well on its way to dissolve into pappy sludge and whatever was written and drawn on it was lost by now.

With a sigh, Manax folded up the map and stuffed it in his bundle. Since only clothes, surely soaked as well by now, were in there, the former-map-now-mud didn't have much of a chance to ruin something. Then, he began to ascend the stairs of the building he stood in front of, deciding that trial-and-error was the only chance he had to find his new employer.

Manax gazed at his feet, which, in their cheap, worn sandals, looked misplaced against the background of the golden stairs. They were impressing, those structures of pure gold. Of course everyone knew jade was much more valuable, but whenever Manax had paid a visit to El Dorado, it were those large buildings made of gold had him stop and stare at the sheer mass of stone that glistened as if the sun itself had been caught inside.

Thinking about that he was really in El Dorado – and not just for a day or two to celebrate an important festival or govern his people in his opacity as a guard when they paid their tribute – made Manax's good mood return. It never took much to do that, really. And the thought that he was going to live in the City of Gold made him practically jump with joy. Oh, of course Manax loved the little village he had grown up at. There was nothing he'd rather think of as home than those somewhat thirty houses scattered around a small plaza. But he was also completely positive that this new experience was going to be great.

By the time Manax had reached the upmost platform, the rain had reduced to mere drizzle. He ran a hand through his long black hair, stopped in his movement and turned around. Now he had the chance to see El Dorado in all its glory.

"So, how are we going to keep this all up with Tzek around? Won't take him long to get we're not the real gods, right?"

"He probably already knows, or he'd been all over us the last days."

Manax perked up his ears and turned around. The wind carried over the quiet voices – one male and sounding extremely concerned, one female –, which came from inside the big building.

Interest piqued, he sneaked over to the entrance. Carefully, he pulled back the curtain a few inches and gazed into the room, spotting an indoor pool and part of a big mask carved into the wall.

Oh gods, yes, he recognized that thing. It had scared the living daylights out of him as he had seen it the first time, almost two decades ago. He still remembered its edgy features lit by only a torch or two and certainly looking alive enough to make an impressible peasant boy hide behind his father's legs.

Now he knew where he was; the God's Temple. Manax had only seen it from inside that one time, but now that he checked, he also noticed stela on top, the enormous stone slab with the effigy of the gods on it. This building was no normal temple, as it was not usually used for ceremonies or everyday clerical life, everyone who had ever heard about El Dorado knew that. It was kept around to be the home of the gods once they came back – which had happened, according to the rumors that had reached his village.

Only that maybe not, or at least that was what Manax had gotten from the conversation up to know. What he saw, though, was almost strange enough to make him believe that it were not mortals in there. A pale man with really weird hair – very light, just like maize – now appeared in Manax's narrow range of vision, followed by the most bizarre creature he had _ever_ seen. The only animal this thing bore any resemblance to was a deer, but they were nowhere as big and powerful-looking as this being. And not white, of course.

Suddenly, Manax felt something brushing against his heel and squeaking while doing so.

He turned around in a knee-jerk reaction, seeing nothing but a flash of a small brown something passing him by. Doing so, he forgot he was still holding the curtain in his right hand; it ripped off from the sudden pull. Before he could even wonder about the new unexpected noise, it fell down, heavy from the rain, covering him up and leaving him in the dark.

_Well, shit._

"Uhm. Hello?"

A man's voice, one he hadn't heard before. Manax's short moment of shock ended. Hastily, he pulled the curtain off his head and threw it to the side, nonchalantly, smiling, as if all of this had been planned - which probably made him look like even more of an idiot, just as the smile he forced on his lips.

"Wow, I don't think my boss is going to like what you just said," he said, trying to sound as light-hearted as possible.

*

"So your name is Manax and you're the new Captain of the Jaguar Warriors?"

Tulio had been walking in circles around Manax for three minutes. The soldier was starting to feel a little giddy.

"Guilty. I just came to El Dorado. And you are not the new gods?"

"No. But don't bother, Tzek already knows," Miguel answered, smiling.

"I heard that when I was outside. Who's Tzek?"

"Tzekel-Kan. Your boss. We're gods, we can call him that."

"Are you or aren't you, now?" Manax couldn't help but chuckle, though he was aware that he had probably - literally - stumbled into a big mess.

"No, but it's not like he can do anything about it, people love u-"

Tulio wasn't about to let Miguel gamble away his best argument in a side note, especially since he started to feel excluded from the conversation. He took a deep breath and straightened up, yet still ended up only looking at tall Manax's throat.

"Forget about using that against us. We _saved_ this city! The people believe in us!" Tulio folded his arms. "There's _nothing_ you can do," he added, for good measure.

Manax raised his hands, as if declaring himself defeated.

"All right. Just give me a chance to explain it. I didn't want to cause trouble, I was just joking."

At Tulio's disbelieving look, he sighed.

"Okay, so it wasn't a very _good_ joke, but it started the conversation, right? Anyway. We've heard of all of your heroic deeds in the villages." Again, he was chuckling. "You saved my family, too! Why would I possibly want something bad?"

"You're one of Tzekel-Kan's men!" Tulio bursted out.

"How does that mat-"

Chel interrupted Manax, chiming in for the first time.

"How's it you're not more surprised about not finding gods here, then?"

Manax shrugged.

"I didn't believe in it. Few actually do, I mean, really do." Manax scratched the back of his head and looked at Tulio, who still seemed to want to bite his head off.

"Where I come from, we're farmers. We don't have all that, you know, it's different from El Dorado. Sure we need the gods like everyone else and we're thankful. But if you don't see fancy temples like this one every day," he made a gesture which included the whole room, "I guess you're... less likely to believe they just waltz into the city after a thousand years."

"Of course, I still don't understand this," he pointed at Altivo, "but I guess there's a worldly explanation?"

"Yes, if you can wrap your mind around a few other not very believable things." Chel had almost broken her brain trying to imagine there should be another country across what had always been the watery end of the world to her. But it was either that or Miguel and Tulio were indeed gods, so it was pretty clear Tulio hadn't lied to her.

"I think a lot of El Dorado's people came to the same conclusion as the villagers, though."

"Maybe. Who cares?" Miguel chimed in. "Tulio already said it, everybody loves us. Besides, Tzek was the best thing that could happen to us! He made people hate his gods so much, they'd probably worship a stone just to get away from his blabbering."

Tulio, forever the worrying kind, wanted to object, but Manax was faster.

"Hey, wait, what? What's it with Tzekel-Kan? He's the high priest, isn't he on your side?"

"You don't know about him?" Chel was intrigued. "I mean... what do you know?"

Manax smiled sheepishly.

"Well, I know that he's started working as a high priest about the same time Chief Tannabok came to the throne. He was at a young age for that position, about twenty. But that was... twelve years ago, so I probably won't get far with that? Oh, and of course rumor has it he is at odds with the Chief sometimes."

"'At odds'? That's one way to describe it."

War was another. Chel raised a brow as she looked the soldier up and down again.

"Didn't he hire you? How comes you know next to nothing about him?"

She couldn't imagine Tzekel-Kan drafting someone who wasn't a complete lapdog. She had lived long enough in this city to know two or three of his pitiful sidekicks.

"Actually, it was an Eagle Warrior who came to the village and asked me to take the position," Manax said. "A man of the chief. But I didn't think it mattered who was the messenger."

Chel loved Tannabok that moment.

In a nutshell, Manax had never met Tzekel-Kan, had never or rarely been to El Dorado, didn't seem to be particularly interested stabbing people's ripped out, still beating hearts while chanting - and he was going to be the Captain of the Jaguar warriors.

With three long steps she was next to Manax. Since she was too small to put her arm around his shoulders, she made do with patting his remarkable biceps.

"Don't worry, there's no problem with who delivered the message." Of course there was, but Chel would not scare away this wonderful opportunity served to her on a silver plate. At least not more than it was necessary. Playing with the bit of fabric around her hips, she made her voice sound carefree, "But there's something you really ought to know before you run into the main temple: Tzek is crazy. And dangerous."

Manax looked down into Chel's sweetly smiling face (her words had lifted his gaze from a region about ten inches lower than said face, where it had lingered after she had stepped so close he could feel her breath against his skin), unsure of what to say. What he had hoped to be a great time ahead of him was changing into something he rather didn't want to think about.

"Aw, don't worry about it," Chel, observing Manax's expression, patted his arm again. "No one will expect you to take him serious and you still got us, right boys?"

She looked over her shoulder were Miguel, munching grapes, nodded, interested in whatever Chel was planning. Tulio, though, had already opened his mouth and raised his hand for some kind of passionate caveat; Chel didn't leave him a chance.

"Right!", she answered her own question."He has to listen to us and you seem like a nice guy." Another sickeningly friendly smile. "Would be a shame if you got in trouble."

Manax's ran a hand through his hair. He had the vague feeling that the situation was completely out of his own control and no idea why the false gods would want to cooperate with him of all people. But with all the information hailing down, he was happy for all the help he could get, how dishonest or short-lived it might be.

"Well, thank you." His smile was nervous. "It can't hurt to have a few divinities on my side. And... er, who are you, anyway?"

Chel flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"I'm Chel, the prophet who has foreseen the gods arrival."

"Exactly. And that means she's with us."

Tulio grabbed Chel's wrist and pulled her over to himself, gentle but determined.

This time, Manax had no problem seeing what was going on. That was a lot less easy then understanding the other motives of everyone else in this room.

"Hey, don't worry. I wouldn't hit on a god's girlfriend."

Chel fought the blush creeping to her face and Tulio was speechless for once. Was it that obvious? Judging by Manax's half-mocking grin, yes. Tulio felt the wind taken out of his sails, but Miguel took over for the embarrassed couple.

"There's one thing I don't understand. Why were you lurking about here, if you weren't trying to spy on us?"

"The rain ruined my map," Manax explained. "I wanted to meet Tzekel-Kan, so I figured heading for a temple would be a good idea. And then I heard parts of your conversation and got curious."

"Seems unlikely, such a coincidence," Tulio said, just for the fun of contradicting Manax.

Manax shrugged. "It's true. You were not exactly quiet in here, everybody could have heard you from the top of the stairs."

"You should meet Tannabok first," Chel advised, changing the topic.

"What? Really?"

Chel - who knew absolutely nothing about who upper military men had to meet first or second or third when they came to El Dorado and couldn't have cared less, either - nodded her head gravely.

"He's the chief, after all. It would be very rude to just skip him in the rank order, even if Tzek's your boss, don't you think?"

"Of course, yes. You're right." It actually seemed to make perfect sense to Manax.

_I'm better than I thought_, Chel mused. _Good._ _If he meets Tanni first, he's less likely to give up right away._

"Do you know where I can find him?"

"Just go down the stairs, then left and to the large building with the blue and gold painting, you can't miss it."

"Good - thanks again. I better get going then. Uhm, see you!"

On his way out, Manax stumbled over the cloth he had ripped off and only barely managed not to fall down the stairs.

*

Chel raised her brow.

"Boy, if he's gonna stay that naive, Tzekel-Kan is going to stomp him into the ground in a matter of days."

"Maybe. Who _cares_?!" Tulio's voice was louder than he had expected. "What was that about, Chel? He's one of Tzekel-Kan's men, why are you trying to make friends with him?"

"Tulio," Miguel nudged his friend's side with his elbow and grinned, "would you get over the fact that he stood a little too close for Chel and activate that brilliant brain of yours?"

"It's not about that," Tulio mumbled. Sure, it was very well for Miguel to laugh. Every girl he have ever liked he had won over by the end of the evening. Tulio, though, had never had a woman like him that much - and a witty, intelligent and beautiful one as Chel, at that.

"Of _course_ not." Miguel gave Tulio a hearty slap against his forehead, since that usually helped.

"Leave our genius trickster alone, Miguel. I mean, it's _really_ hard to understand how a normal guy, maybe a bit of an idiot, who we'd probably get along with and who's that close to Tzek could be helpful when he's our friend and working for us."

Tulio paused for a moment.

"Er, if you put it that way..."

That was a plan he should have thought of in half a minute. Maybe there was a reason faith had kept him away from women or he couldn't have thought up all the great plans he had used to save his and Miguel's behinds so many times. Tulio glanced at Chel, apologetically, for letting his jealousy mistake her manipulating skills for something not as admirable (to him, they were, of course).

But Chel wasn't angry, merely a little surprised; it was just new that someone gave a damn if she flirted or did whatever else with a thousand men. It would not stop her from using everything she had, but... it was odd - odd in a good way - to know someone cared.

*

"Chief Tanni said he wanted you to meet someone."

The eagle warrior looked over his shoulder and tried a smile, which was greeted and subsequently killed by the high priest's expression, anger in its purest form.

"Who would that be?"

"He didn't tell me," the man admitted. He accompanied Tzekel-Kan, whom he had found in his observatory, back to the palace. The night was cold, as the unseasonable rain had washed out the last bit of warmth from the air, and Tzekel-Kan's presence didn't exactly make one feel warm and fuzzy inside, either. The soldier was pretty happy that they just had to make their way from one side of the river to the other, a walk which didn't last longer than ten or fifteen minutes.

Tzekel-Kan gritted his teeth, but he didn't comment on that answer. Who, in all gods' name, did Tannabok think he was, one of his countless brats? 'Daddy has a surprise for you if you eat your dinner without half of it ending up in your sister's hair.' Tanni had a surprise for little Tzek, too, which he'd get if he dropped everything he was currently working on to follow his chief's orders. Great.

Two Eagle Warriors were guarding the entrance to the palace. As they saw the high priest approach, they bowed their heads.

On their way to the throne room, Tzekel-Kan and the soldier had to sidestep the occasional kid which had escaped its bed. Tzekel-Kan wasted few further looks on his surroundings other than these that prevented him from accidentally stepping on one of Tannabok's spawn (even if he was wondering if, with that many children, did one more or less even matter?). He knew Tannabok's home. With blue stone, jade and gold being the main building materials, their colors dominated. He had heard people say that, upon entering, the blue and green seemed like a calm lake, was one reason for the whole palace to make you feel so peaceful within its walls.

It certainly had never had that effect on him, Tzekel-Kan could say that much for sure.

Tzekel-Kan paid a little more attention to the throne room to which he had been called. A small group of soldiers crowded together in a corner - Tzekel-Kan only recognized Tzunun, a stout forty-something with a constantly strict expression -, obviously engaging in private conversation. The man theoretically guarding the door had joined them. Tzekel-Kan ignored the lot, only noticing out of the corner of his eye that one of the guys missed to greet him as he passed by, but he had never cared about the soldiers enough to get really upset about small matters like this.

Tannabok sat on a carved bench, leafing through pergaments with lots of hastily written hieroglyphs, probably just daily paperwork. As Tzekel-Kan cleared his throat, the chief looked up and then dragged himself to his feet.

Tzekel-Kan raised a brow at the chief. "This doesn't look like an official meeting."

"Which it isn't." Tannabok was smiling. "As I said, I just wanted you to meet someone."

"I got this cryptic message, yes," Tzekel-Kan answered icily. "So?"

To his surprise, Tannabok put a hand on his shoulder. It was not unusual for the chief to touch people while talking, but him, Tzekel-Kan? And he was also still smiling. Something here was not right.

"As you know, we have not heard a thing from Lamoc for quite some time. And you said so yourself yesterday, it is unlikely he will return to be the Captain... whether he had an accident or just a reason to flee, one we will never know." Tannabok didn't have to fake the sadness in his voice, he did feel sorry for Lamoc. "In short, you know your men can't lead themselves forever. I've decided to take matters in my hands," this was the point when Tzekel-Kan felt himself tensing up, his eyes narrowing, "and made sure there's a proper replacement."

"What - a new Captain?!"

Tzekel-Kan was dumbfounded.

"Yes." Tannabok still smiled.

"Tannabok!" Tzekel-Kan spat the name out. He only barely managed to keep himself from yelling. "Might I remind you that these are _my_ men?! And that you have no-"

"Yes, Tzekel-Kan."

Tannabok squeezed his shoulder, but although it did not hurt, it was not a gentle a gentle gesture either. Tzekel-Kan took a deep breath and stopped himself from speaking any further, seeing the line that he should not cross.

"Yes, I do. I can replace everyone here, because I am the chief."

It needed a moment until Tzekel-Kan had slowly unclenched his hands, finding that his nails had dug into his own palms hard enough to draw blood.

"Good."

Somehow he'd get back at him. Somehow, sometime.

"Where is he?"

Tzekel-Kan turned around to the small group of soldiers, concluding it had to be one of them; after all, what other reason was there for them to be here? Tannabok let go of him and approached the men.

"Manax, the high priest wants to meet you."

The man talking to Tzunun made a surprised sound and hastily stepped forward. For a moment, he met Tzekel-Kan's gaze before he remembered what he had to do and knelt down.

Tzekel-Kan briefly looked at the figure in front of his feet, wondering if he had noticed him before - yes. He was the one who had ignored him when he had entered the room. But prior to that? It was impossible for him to tell. Tzekel-Kan could only distinguish the usual soldiers by going with the colors they wore. Blue skirts were Tanni's men. Usual soldiers wore a yellow skirt with an orange cloth attached. His own soldiers looked about the same as the normal ones, only that their skirts had jaguar's spots on them.

By that definition, this guy was nothing, his skirt was green. A Jaguar Warrior in plain clothes? No, he wasn't one of those who would have been in the run for the position, none of the higher-up Jaguar Warriors, he knew them at least vaguely. Would Tannabok dare to place an Eagle Warrior as the captain of the Jaguar Warriors? That would destroy the dynamics between the two forces, even Tannabok knew that much.

Who was that man?

"Stand up," Tzekel-Kan said.

Once his order was followed, he began a closer inspection. The man was square-shouldered, muscular and about a head taller than Tzekel-Kan - who was already a little above average. His long black hair went down to his waist with only a few strands in a very short ponytail at the back of his head, a common hairstyle. His eyes - curious and observant - were almond-shaped and almost black, his skin was darker than Tzekel-Kan's. In conclusion, besides his height and that nervous, but irritatingly permanent smile on his lips, there was nothing in his appearance which set him apart from about every soldier Tzekel-Kan had ever met.

"Your parents' names," Tzekel-Kan demanded, folding his arms.

"I'm the son of Ek and Chaam, both from Sacul."

"Sacul?" Tzekel-Kan had been living in El Dorado for over a decade, but he had never heard that name.

"It's a small village up in the mountains."

"He just came to El Dorado this night to take over as the Captain," Tannabok informed his high priest.

Tzekel-Kan took one look at the chief's self-contended grin and decided a change of place was needed or he was going to explode. With a gesture of his hand, he instructed Manax to follow him.

*

Manax opened his mouth only to close it again after a second, as he had also done the last three times.

There was a real problem for him to approach the high priest. Not that he couldn't handle stern people and Tzekel-Kan had not shown yet to be anything more than that, besides maybe snippy. But whenever he had told someone that he was going to be working with the high priest - from the false gods down to the soldiers in Tannabok's palace -, there had only been two kinds of reaction: People had either acted like he was holding a bloody spear in his hand, leaning over the corpses of three dead children, or given him that pitiful look, as if he was a man that did not yet know that the arrow which had hit his arm had a poisoned tip.

And that kind of put a damper on his conversation skills.

Before Manax could think for a solution to his problem, they had reached the bottom of the temple's stairs. In the faint moonlight, he observed long rows of skulls carved into grey stone of the walls, looking into the distance. The enormous faces to both sides of the stairs, however, golden-eyed, angry, their teeth bared, seemed to stare directly at him. He had seen them before, of course, but never that close and never in the middle of the night and it gave him the chills.

"What a cheerful place," he muttered to himself.

"What?"

Tzekel-Kan was already about twenty steps further up the stairs than Manax and looked over his shoulder.

"Nothing."

Manax rushed to catch up.

Before the actual temple on the top of the building, he hesitated. He had been in temples before, of course, and many of them were designed so that the mouth of some divine being was the entrance, but this one led into complete darkness, as it seemed, and from what he had heard... hadn't Tzunun told him, his predecessor had just vanished into thin air?

"Come in. You're not a priest, but I allow you to follow me."

"Oh.... yes, good. Thank you."

_Commoners are forbidden in temples._ He should probably start remembering that one. He was quite sure Tzekel-Kan would not just smile and shake his head at violators of the rule like the local priest in his home village had done.

A short alleyway led into a hall, which was so high that Manax could not make out the ceiling in the darkness. The only sources of light were two bowls filled with burning incense, placed to the left and right of a huge stone jaguar's paws. Manax was mesmerized by the monster, forgetting his worries. He passed by the stela with the gods in the middle of the temple, leaning his head back to make out the face, which seemed oddly alive in the dancing shadows.

Manax not being able to watch his own feet was generally not a good thing, though. Suddenly, as he approached, there was nothing to step on anymore and with a surprised yell, which was ear-piercingly loud in the temple's silence, he fell down into a basin in the ground - the same were Lamoc's life had found its end.

For a moment he just answered Tzekel-Kan's look of utter bewilderment with one of his own.

"Sorry, I - it's rather dark in here, isn't it?"

"It's night and we don't have torches. I foolishly thought you would notice that conditions like this mean one has to be careful when walking."

Scrambling to his feet, Manax laughed at Tzekel-Kan's comment, expecting him to join in and thus soften the harsh words. Instead, the priest regarded him with growing distaste.

The soldier cleared his throat. Silence.

"What is that thing for?" Manax stepped out of the basin, as much honestly curious as he was desperate to get a conversation running.

"Potions or blood, mostly. Manax... that was your name?"

"Yes."

"Tell me something more about you. After all, I suppose there's a reason Chief Tannabok chose you for this position." He snorted, as if he had just remembered a good joke. "What have you done before you came to El Dorado? Are you even aware of what position you have been assigned to? The Jaguar Warriors constitute one of the two most honourable groups of soldiers in the whole city!"

"Of course I know," Manax said. "I think I can do this. I'm not used to the way things are dealt with here in the city, but I adapt quickly. I'm one of those who made sure there are good guards in even the smaller villages - I was caring about the twenty-two places closest to Sacul. That was great training in leading groups with complex structures."

"That's a requirement for your position," Tzekel-Kan admitted gruffly. "But it won't get you far if you can't make the men follow you."

"You bet I can make them obey. I even turned my share of no-good drunk guys, who have nothing better to do than hang around all day instead of helping their families, into soldiers. Why would I have problems with men who are already trained to listen to a superior?"

"You will have to be able to do more than impress a few uneducated farmer boys here. The Jaguar Warriors are all proud men of noble birth."

"No. I'm not. I'm a peasant's son." Manax didn't leave Tzekel-Kan the time to start using that against him. "Chief Tannabok told me that's no problem. He said now that the gods are in the city and a new age has begun, it's the perfect time to change irrelevant old rules."

That shut up Tzekel-Kan for a moment.

Manax straightened his shoulders. Now he sure understood the chief's remark that he knew and was sorry he put Manax into a difficult situation, but nevertheless was hopeful that he would live up to his good reputation and be able to deal with it. Too bad it had not been directed at the fact that he'd have to get the noble soldiers under control as a commoner, that was probably an easy task in comparison.

"It's wonderful the chief has now completely taken over my men."

Tzekel-Kan spat out a swear word, or at least that what was it sounded like. Manax hadn't heard that language - dialect? - before, it didn't sound similar to the tongue of El Dorado. But he guessed asking Tzekel-Kan about trivial stuff like this was lethal right now.

"I'm a good warrior," he reassured tentatively. "I believe I was chosen for a reason."

"I only believe in the gods," Tzekel-Kan said.

"... all right." Manax bit his tongue. Slowly but steadily, the fear of this place and this man vanished as he grew more annoyed with Tzekel-Kan's curt remarks. "Let me prove myself to you, then."

"Effort is a start. Pity most men of your kind don't get much further than this. But don't worry, in this city, no one has higher ambitions."

"No one but you, of course..."

Tzekel-Kan turned around to him. "Exactly," he said. "I would keep that in mind, if I were you."

"You don't have to treat me like I'm dumb." The words left Manax's mouth before he had time to think about them.

"That's another thing you have to prove."

"Just..." Manax took a deep breath. "I will, Sir."

"Good." Tzekel-Kan gave him a pat on the shoulder and pushed him in the general direction of the door with that. "We will start tomorrow morning. Come here as early as possible. Oh, and try not to trip over your own feet again."

Manax didn't think he had ever seen a snottier smile. He opened his mouth to protest that after all, there _was_ a hole in the ground and it was not that easy to see at _all_, but he guessed it wouldn't help his case.

"Yes, I will. But - do you know a place where I could sleep tonight?" He said instead, lifting his wet luggage and hoping Tzekel-Kan was not yet angry enough to suggest he'd go and find himself a nice patch of dirty ground.

"We have houses for guests from other kingdoms," Tzekel-Kan said after a second that Manax figured he had spent considering the answer he, Manax, had originally expected. "But since the _gods_ were merciful enough to protect us and block the entrance, I don't think we will need them anymore. Some of my - your! - warriors should be on night watch, so find one and let him take you there."

"Thanks. I mean... thank you, Sir."

Manax left, running a hand through his hair.

No wonder they hadn't found anybody in El Dorado to do this job. Anyone who had met Tzekel-Kan could probably be chased with the opportunity to become his right hand man.

* * *

Critic and other comments are of course, as always, appreciated.


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